


Christmas Morning Analytics

by Kirathaune



Category: BBC Sherlock
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirathaune/pseuds/Kirathaune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock thinks he knows what all of his presents are. John knows otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Morning Analytics

"Six pairs of black mens socks from Marks and Spencer, courtesy of Mrs. Hudson."

A bright, still-wrapped package landed with a soft thump on the worn Oriental rug. 

"Along with a gift card for Starbucks." A similarly unwrapped gift joined its fellow on the floor, where Sherlock and John sat cross-legged in front of a haphazardly decorated Christmas tree. "Although Lord knows why that woman would give me a gift card for Starbucks when the coffee she makes me is perfectly adequate." Sherlock reached over to retrieve his coffee from the living room table, and he sipped at the steaming brew.

John sighed. "Perhaps, Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson is trying to suggest that you get your own coffee."

Piercing blue eyes blinked at him owlishly behind a chintz cup. "Whatever for?"

John jabbed a finger at the unopened pile of gifts. "Aren't you even going to open them?"  
  
Sherlock lifted a flannel-clad shoulder in an elegant shrug, and then he replaced the cup on the table. "What's the point? I've already determined what they are. Bo-ring."  
  
John scowled at him. "What about that, then?" He pointed at a slim gift that still lay under the tree.  
  
"A new Moleskine notebook from Mycroft."  
  
"And that?" John indicated a rather enthusiastically wrapped box topped with an explosion of ribbons.  
  
"Biscuits. From Molly. Homemade."  
  
John rolled his eyes. "Only you would spend Christmas morning analyzing your gifts." He picked up a large box from near the back and handed it to Sherlock. "Tell me about this one."  
  
Sherlock took the box and raised an eyebrow at John. "It's from you."  
  
"And you know this how ... ?"  
  
A flash of a grin. "There's no tag on it. Clearly it's from you, since a gift from anyone else would have a tag." Sherlock shook the box.  
  
"Hey now, that's cheating!"  
  
"In an effort to confound me, you have utilized the box-within-a-box maneuver," Sherlock said, completely ignoring John's outburst. He shook the box again, and then peered at it from several angles. "Quite possibly several boxes within boxes. And I would venture to say that they are all individually wrapped."  
  
"You're stalling."  
  
"I am no such thing. I know exactly what lies within this box."  
  
John crossed his arms. "Tell me, then."  
  
Sherlock gave him a smug smile. "There is a gift certificate inside, probably to the Chinese restaurant I like to frequent." He  tossed the box aside and then leaned back on the rug, propping himself up on an elbow. "You couldn't possibly hope to surprise me."  
  
Now it was John's turn to smile. "You're wrong," he said.  
  
"I am not!" Sherlock sat up.  
  
"Oh, I'm afraid you are." John pointed at the box. "You'll just have to open it, won't you?"  
  
Sherlock huffed and grabbed the box. Paper tore as he ripped off the red-and-green plaid wrapping, and then he pulled off the lid.  
  
There was another box inside, wrapped in metallic green paper.  
  
"I _knew_ you used multiple boxes."  
  
John flapped his hand at the gift. "Keep going."  
  
The metallic green gave way to metallic red, and then a red-and-white stripe. Finally, seven boxes later, Sherlock found a narrow, gold box tied with a thin red ribbon. He undid the ribbon and lifted the lid.  
  
"It's a scrap of paper," Sherlock said, bemused. He took it out and set the final box down on the floor, and then he peered at the tiny writing on the paper. "It says..." he held it up closer, "'Look up, you idiot.'"  
  
Sherlock looked up.  
  
John kissed him.   
  



End file.
